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Hayley laughed, "I think you're trying awfully hard not to say housewives whose sex has gone stale."

Kristyn laughed with her. "Well, it's amazing the intimate details some women will tell us, but you're pretty close when it comes down to it, regardless of marital status. Many of our customers are referrals from vanilla stores, like Frederick's and Victoria's Secret. We don't compete on many products, so when they have a customer that needs what we have, they send them our way. But enough about us. We need to get you on your way."

"Sure. What has Steven got planned for me here?"

"Ah. Well, as you might guess, or may not, I don't know! But, your husband has already chosen. It's only the size that has to be determined."

"Oh, no. I'm afraid to find out. What has he chosen?"

"Something very well suited to his tastes, anyway. Step over there, please, and take off your blouse and bra."

Hayley laughed. "I think that's about all he has planned. Me taking my bra off in front of others."

Kristyn laughed too. "You know, I think you just may be right, although I think it has less to do with what you're taking off than with what you're showing."

"I think you have him figured out, Kristyn."

As Hayley removed her blouse, Kristyn uttered what sounded like a painful cry.... "Get that outta my sight! Bali classic? After we're done with this, come back sometime and we'll dress you properly, girl! I don't want to even think what you're wearing under that skirt! Jockey probably. Argh! I shouldn't have thought about it. You'll have to come back another time."

"I'll bet you tell that to all your customers!"

Kristyn laughed again. "Most," she said, "most."

Kristyn located and held up Steven's choice. It was a black shelf bra, one that would leave her nipples exposed, theoretically while offering support. Hayley had seen the like before. "Well, he is persistent. He bought me one of those before. It didn't quite fit right. It made my breasts stick straight out in sort of a grotesque way. As you said, it itched and pinched in the wrong places. I wear it for about 5 seconds in our bedroom on rare occasions, those being when he searches through my drawer and specifically asks for it."

"Yes, he mentioned that. Just give me a few minutes."

Hayley considered how efficient Kristyn was. The third bra she tried on fit pretty well, and Kristyn made several adjustments that made it feel... acceptable, anyway. Her breasts had adequate support, and hung approximately where her everyday bras placed them. Not bad. She was drawn from her preoccupation when it occurred to her what the sound was that she heard. Kristyn had just cut her Bali bra into pieces.

"My bra!"

"You're wearing your bra. You'll come back for more." Kristyn asked about the fit and made a few more minor adjustments to it. It now felt, well, comfortable!

Kristyn was pleased to hear that. "For future reference, you'll note that when you're wearing this properly, your cleavage is lifted only slightly, but the line of your breasts isn't pinched or bunched. They're supported, but otherwise look very natural."

Hayley understood what she meant, and she quickly recovered from a short tingle when Kristyn had traced the line of her breasts with a fingertip as she talked.

"Now, I understand you have a camera?"

Hayley rolled her eyes, removed the camera from her purse and handed it to Kristyn.

"Over here please."

Hayley had been concealed by the office wall, but now stepped out into the open area of the store. There were no other customers still, but it was still a bit awkward being in the open, with the other salesperson now looking at her. What if a customer came in?

"Okay, strike a pose." Click. "No, strike a better pose." Click. "You're kind of missing the point. You need to remember that for your partner to enjoy the picture, you have to at least look like you're enjoying posing for him. Try again." Click. Click. "Better." Kristyn zoomed in for close-ups.

"How many of these did he ask you to take?"

"Oh, only two. One is the waist up shot, but for the other I wanted to make sure we get it done right the first time. Your husband paid handsomely for your bra, but there's still a risk remaining for me as a business owner. Here's the deal. I'm going to go out to the street, turn around, and take a picture of the front of the store. After I've been pointing at the store for a few seconds, you'll open the door and lean on the door frame with your arm reaching up to the corner. One take, right?"

"But..." Kristyn was already out the door. She walked to the street turned and... waited. Hayley decided it was best to get this over with. She looked through the door just to check for passing vehicles. There were several, but none were coming to the store at least. She quickly opened the door and gave the pose that Kristyn, or rather Steven, had requested. She counted to three, quickly turned and came back inside, wondering if anyone...

Kristyn came quickly through the door, laughing. "You follow instructions to a 'T,' whatever that means. I've gotta tell you though, I think those Latinos in the bed of that pickup truck are still whistling!"

Hayley's heart leapt to her throat. "What pickup truck?"

"The one that... oh, never mind. It's done. Let me get you your package." She reached under the register. "Here we are. What's the matter?"

Hayley had put on her blouse. It was white, but it wasn't thick material or the tightest of weaves. As she looked in the mirror, her black bra was clearly visible, as were two critical areas where the bra should be visible but wasn't. "He's crazy. I can't do this!"

"I see what you mean. We don't sell blouses though. But, hang on. Kristyn glanced at the door then removed her own top, a huggy shortsleeved black top. It revealed a tortoise shell bra that looked...nice. Kristyn understood at once. "Ah, well, I told you that you would come back for more. Here. Hand me yours. I think our sizes are very close, although you're slightly larger in the chest."

The top was tight, with a deeper V-neck than Hayley would have chosen on her own. Still, it wasn't a bad fit, and it was infinitely preferable to the white blouse. And it was fortunate that she wore a tan skirt, as the black looked even better than the white had.

"I'll want that back sometime." Kristyn looked at herself in the mirror. "You're leaving me with your problem, but I can get away with it in here. What does your note say?"

"Another address. Just down the road. 4250 Howell Avenue. All it says is, 'trust me.'"

"He seems imaginative. You're a lucky woman."

Hayley pondered that as she went to her car. Was she lucky? Really, she knew she was, but was this... challenge...or adventure... the kind of thing that would make her seem lucky to others?

She gave a heavy sigh when she reached the address. A handwritten poster on the door said, "Beauty is skin deep." Of course, she already knew what the store was due to the large neon letters saying "TATTOOS." No way, Steven. No way!

The guy behind the counter was wearing a sleeveless shirt, which showed off the various tattoos winding around both of his arms. Labels of beer bottles. It was hard to imagine why anyone would...

"Can I help you?"

"Probably. My husband sent me. My name is Hayley."

"Ah, good. You're here. I was wondering if that guy was for real or not. You have a camera?"

Hayley nodded, pulled it out of her handbag, and handed it to him.

He immediately connected it to a USB port on a computer. He clicked his mouse several times as he concentrated on the computer screen. His face gave a concerned look and then became completely impassive as he scrolled through, she assumed, her pictures. Oh dear... The pictures of her breasts. She had handed the camera over just like that... what was she thinking?

"Okay, give me just a few minutes."

Her face was flushed again, she realized. It eventually occurred to her that his initial wincing had probably been from the mammogram. That seemed like so long ago.

She became aware of all the pictures of, she guessed, clients, and their tattoos. Strange that so many would want such things on their bodies permanently, or even... She became aware of where some of those tattoos were actually placed. Ouch. And she couldn't even dare to look at the section that displayed their piercing work. But like a moth to the flame, she shuddered when she saw that women got pierced down... there. Why had Steven ever come to a place like this?

After a bit, the man turned the screen towards her and began a slide show, all of which featured her breasts in a single pose that Kristyn had taken, from the waist up. The difference was that he had digitally applied tattoos to the picture of her breasts. "Here, go ahead and look. Then you pick your favorite." He sat down and picked up a "Spin" magazine. He wasn't going to win any customer service awards, that was for sure.

The pictures cycled several times. There was no way, no way at all. She had expected to see a rose, a cross, or other standard tattoo images, but she realized that they really didn't look like tattoos. They were like paintings. Some looked like animals a frog, a dragon, a cat, a dog, a tiger. The eyes of each one, usually overly large, were located at her nipples, only they were colored to fit the picture. Others were really no specific image at all a cosmic scene with planets and meteors, intersecting shapes, one that could only be described as a random application of brush strokes. Others included a flower, a group of flowers, coconuts, watermelon, ahhh... a man's genitals, and even fried eggs, sunny side up. What was the purpose of this?

"What's the purpose of this?" she asked hopefully.

The guy didn't look up from his magazine, saying only, "Can't say."

Idiot. Well then, as tempting as fried eggs were... "The tiger." Similar to the cat, but it had better eyes and head shape. "But I'm not getting a tattoo."

"Ah. Yes. Well, just work with me." He turned the screen then punched several keys, then a printer stirred, processing the image. He clicked a few more buttons, disconnected her camera, and handed her the camera. The photo finished printing, and he handed it to her. "Here. Keep this. I take it you'll need it later. Now, I need you to sit on this stool and remove your shirt."

Hayley sat, but that was all. "I told you. I'm not getting a tattoo. And I doubt seriously whether my husband would have wanted me to get one."

The guy grinned at her briefly. It occurred to her that he hadn't even introduced himself. A license on the wall said his name was Peter Gosford. Peter, as in Dick. How appropriate she thought.

"You will be getting a tattoo, one that your husband has chosen, though I have no idea why. You'll be happy to know, however, that it's a rubon. Give me just a minute, and, like I said, remove your top. He disappeared briefly, and she heard a beep. He reemerged with a bowl of water, which she realized he had probably just warmed. He stood in front of her, looking at her face.

"The top? Your husband wanted me to put these on your breasts." Of course he would...

"What are they?"

"I will tell you that I haven't figured it out. It's been a mystery that we've been talking about the past few days around here. Maybe after I give you the note you'll let us know what it says. And what the purpose of all of this is."

He continued to look at her. She wasn't sure for what reason.

"The shirt. Remove it. I can't give you the envelope until after I've done this. That was the deal."

Hayley really, really didn't want this man to see her tits, and, more importantly, she didn't want to show them. This was nowhere close to the fantasy and was not desirable to her at all. Suddenly, the word "necessary" occurred to her. It was "necessary" if she was going to get the hell out of here and still go on whatever trip Steven planned, which was becoming less and less of a prize. On with it girl, rather, off with it. She grated her teeth.

Her irritation didn't stop her from flushing once again as she bared her breasts, this time with the provocative bra. She really didn't like this guy, or the place, and, come to think of it, the embedded stench of incense and cigarette smoke. Just a little while longer...

He placed a towel in her lap to prevent her skirt from getting wet, and then he began applying the tattoos, whatever they were. "Uh, you may as well take the bra off, or the water from the tattoos is going to get it wet." Her breasts were already clearly exposed, so she was forced to agree with him and she complied. She casually noticed the strong underwire in her bra as she removed it, almost like a flat band. No wonder if supported her...

She didn't particularly care for his fingers on her breasts, or the way he would casually rub against the tips of her nipples with his knuckles. And she was almost angered that her nipples weren't cooperating with her mood and were fully erect.

Another employee emerged from the rear. "Hey Peter, I finally made it." Ahh, so this was indeed "Dick." He looked down at the counter and whistled.

"It's okay Sean. It's been slow anyway, but our mystery lady has finally showed." Sean looked their way, then down again. His face broke into a devilish grin. "Ahhh. Lady, are you sure that's all we can do for you? You've got a wonderful... canvas."

Hayley was even more annoyed with another man looking, no... openly gaping!...at her breasts. She was ready to leave. "No. No tattoos."

But Sean was persistent He approached them so that Peter no longer obstructed his view and looked delighted to gaze at her breasts. At least he showed some appreciation. "How about piercings?"

And here she thought her mood had turned just slightly. She didn't bother to reply.

It didn't take "Dick" too long to finish the job. He dabbed at her with a towel, drying her off. There seemed to be multiple tattoos, an assortment of letters, actually.

"Okay, done. Although I don't get it." He retreated to the counter, and withdrew an envelope, which he had to wait to hand to her as she put on her bra and the top.

She opened the envelope. There was a short note in it. "It's a word jumble. You have to get someone who doesn't work at the store to unscramble it for you," Hayley cringed, then continued reading, "then Peter (I think Dick is appropriate, by the way) will give you another envelope." Hayley stopped herself from laughing, and she told them the gist of what it said. "Sean, tell me you don't work here."

"Err, sorry. I do. But there's CJ. She doesn't."

Hayley turned and saw a sliver of a girl entering the door. Her hair was spiked and died black, set against the palest of skin. Hayley didn't understand why someone would want a piercing in their chin, nose, or a whole line of them in the ears... Whatever. Once Sean explained things to CJ, Hayley removed her shirt yet again, and all three stared at her breasts trying to figure it out.

N H I Y N O I L A D

It seemed to Hayley to take forever, but after about 5 minutes Sean said, "My problem is that I see 'LAID,' which, and I mean this as a compliment, would seem to fit and is possibly something I can help you with, but I can't figure the rest of it."

Peter said, "I don't see anything to it."

CJ frowned a bit, and then offered. "I can't come up with anything either. I keep seeing "HOLIDAY INN," and I can't get past it to come up with anything else."

They all looked at her as if she were from another planet, possessing an alien gift.

Peter returned to the counter and retrieved the remaining envelope. "You never know where you'll find genius. And it says here on the envelope that it's 2 words, 7 letters and 3, so I guess that's it. It would have helped to have had that tip earlier. And, Hayley, you're late for whatever you're supposed to do next."

Hayley quickly redressed, tired of these particular people looking at her breasts, noticing that Sean was watching until she had covered every bit of them, then she opened the envelope. "Go to the motel, just a few blocks away, and look through the stand that has all the vacation pamphlets." She repeated it to them, then wondered why she had bothered.

"Ok, then, I'm off."

Sean gave her a wide grin, then said, "Well, hang on. You need to see our latest addition to our wall of fame!" Hayley once again took stock of the pictures of tattoos that covered the walls from floor to ceiling, hardly seeing anything to brag about. Sean was taping something to the cash register counter, and Hayley could guess what it would be. He stepped away.

It was entitled, "The ones that got away!" The picture of her breasts, of course...

"Hey, Peter! Mind if a print a few more to take home and show around?

Dick just grunted, and she left, wanting to get away as quickly as possible. She was feeling... soiled.

The Holiday Inn was an older style motel, but with a lobby and two story guest room building, with rooms opening directly outside. Still, it was nicely maintained and used regularly for conferences. It's restaurant even had a good reputation, which was rare for motels, she thought.

Hayley entered the lobby and quickly saw the display that she was looking for. The only problem was that she didn't know what she was looking for. Steven hadn't given any hints. Her eyes quickly took in various restaurant, theater, camping, and fun park advertisements, but nothing jumped out. She decided to just start in the upper left and work her way down the display row by row. And there, as luck, and Steven, would have it, was her answer at the bottom right of the display.

It was easy to discern, not by the absence of coupons, but by a picture of her breasts adorning the pamphlet. She was going to have to discuss that with him. She had allowed him to take those pictures only if he promised not to show them to anyone. She could imagine him saying he didn't. He just placed them where they might be seen. She quickly removed all three copies, wondering if there had been a larger stack.

She opened the pamphlet, and read, "This is a flyer, and so soon shall you be too. If you'll just open your trunk, and do what I say do." Steven, the poet.

Okay, then, back to the car!

It was with a cautious hand that she opened her trunk, half expecting someone to jump out and rip off her shirt. But she knew that wouldn't be it. It was the unknown. The latch popped, and she raised the slid slowly. The truck was empty, aside from a small envelope that had slid to a side. She opened it, and found a note enclosed with an airplane ticket. She opted to check the ticket first, which, to her satisfaction, was for Key West! She had always wanted to go. She didn't want to dwell on whether it would be worth the price she had paid thus far, if she had known in advance. What was done, was done. She opened the note. "Be sure to bring your driver's license, the camera, and the items you've collected so far. I'll meet you there, with, I promise, clothes that you will actually want to wear! Love, Steven."

She checked the time of the flight. Ouch. She had to hurry!

On leaving her car at the airport parking lot, she retrieved the items that she thought Steven would want. She put the Fotoflash pictures into her purse, along with the camera. The other picture was too large to fold and fit within her purse, however. She found a bookstore and bought a hardback of a romance novel that seemed somewhat interesting, although she had read enough that she could probably write it herself. She inserted the folded picture into the book.

It wasn't until the security scan actually sounded that 2+2 equaled four. She had stood in line and placed both her purse, with the car keys, and her book onto the security check conveyor. She had also removed her shoes, per the guard's instruction, due to the possibility of nails in her heels setting off the alarm.

And it took just moments for her to realize that, carrying nothing and barefoot, there was only one possible cause of the metal detector sounding. It made her dizzy, with people staring at her as the guard moved a handheld detector about her body. Were they thinking the odds were somehow lower for them now that she was being searched? Or were they curious at how someone rather sparsely adorned would set off the bells?

"Ma'am. If you'll step this way." The guard gathered her things, handing them to a female security officer, who she was instructed to accompany. Hayley searched towards the heavens, looking for deliverance.

The flight was comfortable enough, but she was always nervous when she flew, and she was glad when the plane touched down. The book she had been reading was only so-so, and she hadn't read much of it. Her attention had been more focused on "Terrible Things Steven Has Made Me Do." She hadn't plotted revenge, yet anyway, but she knew that a tale of her passing was now circulating at the airport. She had quickly come to the conclusion that honesty is the best policy, but she had wished that Officer Morgan hadn't insisted on feeling the metal band in her bra. Necessarily exposed, yet again. She wondered if Steven had the foresight to predict that one. She wasn't certain that he did, and she didn't want to grant him "genius" status, even if it would apply in this sinister adventure he had laid out for her.

She left the plane and entered the terminal rather quickly, having no luggage. She started to look for Steven... after all, he said he would meet her. And now that his jokes were over, she was looking forward to some fun. She would never reveal to him, however, how wet she had been on the airplane, and how wet she was even now. She hadn't been turned on at any of his tests, but cumulatively, yes, they did turn her on. She couldn't believe he had her do those things! Or that she did them. But she had the pictures to prove it. Unbelievable.

She couldn't find Steven, but she did come across a large sign that said, "Hayley." It was held by a young man in Bermuda shorts, Hawaiian shirt, and a chauffeur's cap. Her adventure over, the thought of a limo ride to meet Steven at some romantic spot would be just perfect.

"Hi, my name is Ed. I was told that you would have some identification."

Hayley retrieved her driver's license from her purse and showed it to him. He smiled at her. "Ma'am, anyone can fake an I.D. I was told you would have another photo I.D."

Good Lord! Would this never end? She removed the Fotoflash pictures, holding them for only several moments in front of his face. He smiled widely, then said, "This way, ma'am."

It turned out that it wasn't a limo, but that might have been out of place anyway. She found herself in a well appointed Sebring convertible as he drove to the town of Key West, the warm, tropical air blowing through her hair. She guessed that it would still be light outside for possibly another couple of hours, and she enjoyed the sights as he passed houses, condos, and entered the old town. He stopped at a street corner, and handed her an envelope. "No tipping. You could say I've been tipped in more ways than one. I hope you'll enjoy your visit."

She stepped out, then read the envelope as Ed pulled away.

"Welcome to Fantasy Fest! Go see Cocoa Joe, tell him your name. I'll see you soon. Love, Steven."

So! It wasn't over yet. Now, where was she supposed to find Cocoa Joe? She looked at the nearby buildings, all one and two story T-shirt shops, restaurants, and bars. She finally looked at the building on her corner... Cocoa Joe's. Well, then...

She entered, looking for someone who... She stopped, knowing immediately who she needed to talk to. A group of people were gathered around, and as she came closer, she saw a bare breasted lady seated near the front of the store on a bar stool. A middle-aged man with salty hair and a beer belly was air-spraying an image on the lady's chest. Hayley couldn't help but look... it seemed to be taking shape as maybe a praying mantis, it's big bug eyes placed on her nipples. And with that, Hayley shuddered, a silent groan filling her, knowing what was in store.

She remembered seeing a "Sports Illustrated" swimsuit edition in the supermarket several years earlier, when the models had their swimsuits painted on. It looked so real that she really had to study the pictures to realize that it was paint. And now, at her first visit to Key West, a town known for its Bohemian ways, it was apparently popular to go around bare breasted with paint!

The lady stood, with the airbrushing finished, to the applause of several. Hayley then became aware of the cameras that some were using as the lady stood. How embarrassing! Didn't she know her picture would be all over the internet within a week?

Cocoa made eye contact with her, and it seemed it was, somehow, in recognition. He turned to another lady, and said, "I'm sorry, you'll have to wait a turn. The lady who I mentioned might show up, just showed up."

With that, he turned to her, and said, "Hayley, I presume?"

"You presume correctly, but I'm not..." Hayley just shook her head towards the chair.

"You're almost on time. It's rare that I schedule an appointment, but if everyone is as close to being on time as you, maybe I'll consider it some more. Now, your husband said you might be shy. I'm sorry that we don't have a more private arrangement, but people don't usually come here for keeping things private." He laughed, but not in a way that was going to make Hayley change her mind. He seemed to recognize the same.

"Oh, okay then. Here!" He reached to his supply cabinet, and pulled out a feathered Mardi-Gras type mask. "Your husband said you would probably want this. You aren't the first and won't be the last... Now, have a seat please, and we'll get to work."

Hayley sat down, placing the mask on her face. She could see in a mirror that her face was made nicely anonymous. "Uh, I'm pretty good, you know, but I haven't yet found it possible to paint through a woman's blouse." He laughed.

Hayley was particularly aware of the guys, women and couples that were either hanging around or walking by, and their cameras. She began to lift Kristyn's blouse over her head and mask. It was somewhat difficult to manage, but she didn't want them taking pictures of her with her face exposed. She heard several "ah's," as slowly worked the blouse over her head, knowing that her shelf bra was out in the open, as would be her nipples.

Of course. Again. She sighed as she finally pulled the blouse off. She could hear several faint clicks, but noticed that there were a lot more cameras than clicks. Digital cameras were very quiet, she considered. She looked in the mirror again. Yes, the mask did well to conceal her face, anyway, not that anyone was looking there. The bra came off relatively easily with her practiced behind-the-back finger coordination. Here she was, exposed again. For the last time, she hoped.

"I believe you have a picture for me?"

It took her a few moments before she realized he would need the other picture of her. She reached into her book and pulled out the printed photo from the tattoo shop, the one with the tiger on it.

"First, hand me your things." She did, and saw that he gave them to another employee who took them towards the back of the store. "We'll store them for you. You can come by anytime you like to pick them up."

Cocoa Joe then raised his voice, playing towards the crowd. "Okay then, just hold still, try not to giggle, and we'll try to get this pussy out in the open!" People all around laughed at this. And, unexpectedly, she did too. He had somehow, remarkably, put her at ease, and she was sure he was practiced at this as there had to be women who came to him, at the least, somewhat reluctantly. It felt odd feeling the rush of air on her chest, but her attention was mostly given towards stealing glances through the eyeholes in her mask at the crowd gathered about them, almost all staring at her tits. Certainly, Joe had talent that they would be appreciating, but, as Sean had put it, she was certain that more than a few were lusting after her canvas.

She could feel the wetness between her legs increase, and, worse, at times, she thought she could smell her fluids. There was enough sexual energy about that it could be any of the other ladies, but she knew it was hers, and she could only imagine what Joe was thinking in his close proximity to her. She decided to concentrate on the mirror. The base coat of black had quickly covered her breasts and the tiger's head was already formed. It was the detail work now, and she found it hard to constrain her breathing and maintain a still pose as he worked on the eyes at her nipples. What a day this had been!

Cocoa Joe was very efficient, she had to admit. It had seemed to take quite a while, but in reality, she knew that he had painted her in less than 10 minutes. Maybe it was a very familiar pattern to him. He put his tools to the side as she stood, and he said, "Thank you for the privilege. I certainly enjoy my work. You're a treat to the senses." With that, he chuckled to himself, and looked to the crowd for more appreciation, which resulted in laughter whistles, and a few catcalls. She could feel the wetness between her legs drip slightly down the inside of her thigh. He knew... he knew... Joe reached behind him and pulled out a note. As she moved away, a 20-something girl was already getting seated, her top nowhere in sight.

"Fantasy Fest is... well, I'm not sure. But it does include a parade of people dressed, or, like you, not dressed, in all kinds of ways. It starts at 7:00 several blocks to the east. March along in the parade, and I'll join you!"

Finally! She took stock of where she was and which way east would be. It wasn't hard to figure with the sun descending quickly now and the presence of one main road. Then she took stock of herself. A skirt, underwear, sandals with short heels. And that was it with the rest of her belongings stowed away at Joe's.

Before leaving Joe's, she wanted to be more certain of her appearance with this minimum of covering. She found another standing mirror, looking at Joe's art. Yes, as she turned, the form of her breasts were clearly visible, but she had to really focus to sort out her nipples and areolas. She was sure guys would be making the effort, but, strangely, it wasn't like she was completely naked.

She found that she had about 20 minutes before the parade. All things considered, she was amazed that Steven had planned everything so carefully. But occupying herself until the parade started became the issue. Staying at Joe's for as long as possible seemed inviting, if only because she was clearly among others doing the same thing. But when she caught two guys continually giving her hungry looks, she made a show of her wedding ring, which she had forgotten in her selfinventory, and left the store.

As the sun began setting, the light made all the colors of the town warmer. She was amazed at the number of ladies who had been painted, and the variety of things painted. A few of the guys were painted as well, although wearing tiny bikinis. And various odd costumes were in abundance, most leaning towards sexual kinks. It was her first time in anything close to this environment. She had always heard about Key West, but she never expected to see fat husbands in g-strings walking their painted wives down the street. But she had better soon see hers.

Steven, though, was still nowhere in sight. It was...interesting...she decided, to walk around without a shirt or bra. Not liberating, just interesting. No restraints, the feel of fresh air on her breasts. This contrasted with men's heads turning her way to check her out, some discretely taking her picture, some being quite obvious, and, on several occasions, men asking her to pose with them. And, with her mask, why shouldn't she?

For the most part, she was incredibly turned on. The most disconcerting moment was when a couple of cute college aged guys asked to pose with her. The girlfriend of one took the picture, or maybe pictures, she couldn't tell. But she could tell when their hands, which had been around her shoulders at the beginning of the pose, quickly moved to fondle her breasts as the pictures were taken.

"Guys!" was all she could muster, but they quickly left her, laughing, making her feel, well, younger. That wasn't so bad, was it? It bothered her that she was most concerned whether they had rubbed any of the paint off. What had happened to her in a day?

She soon found herself in a throng of people waiting for the parade to commence. She was torn between her bewilderment at seeing how everyone else was costumed or painted, and her personal satisfaction of catching men checking her out. Yes, she liked it, she realized. Then, finally, the crowd began to move, filling in between convertibles, floats... tricycles even, leading to what she overheard was going to be a costume judging at the end of the parade. What a place!

She was just settling into a rhythm about the whole thing... walking with loonies, looking at loonies, feeling loony as her breasts jiggled as she walked, when she felt an arm reach around her waist. It was a familiar touch, but still, she had to turn and look.

"Steven!" She wanted to stop and kiss, but they would just be in the way, but Steven was intent, apparently, on continuing the parade.

"It took you long enough!" He turned to walk backwards so that he could check out her breasts inch by inch. She saw that he, too, had a little air-spraying done. His chest had written on, "Isn't my wife beautiful?"

"Have you been watching me?"

"Well, you know, I was trying to find some other guys to pose with you and grope you. The pictures I've taken!"

She looked at his chest. "Thanks for the compliment. I'm just surprised that you didn't say "Aren't my wife's breasts beautiful?"

Steven smiled, stepping alongside her again. I think that's obvious. Actually, I think the most beautiful part is your face. With that, he reached over and quickly removed her mask, tossing it to someone watching along the side of the street.

A band started playing, drowning out the softly spoken "Steven" that had escaped her lips. He didn't realize what he had done. It was like she was safely hidden, and now she was on display for the whole world. People were taking pictures. The people in the parade with them were now taking more pictures of her.

He reached an arm around her, lightly stroking the side of her breast before settling on her hip. Her eyes turned to meet him. "Steven..."

"You're beautiful. Look at you." He was smiling. "From the crown of your head to your cute little toes, you're beautiful. Forty years old, and have you seen anyone who isn't fascinated by the way you look? And your breasts, Hayley, surely you know..."

"Steven, thank you. But someone is going to see these pictures that knows me, and then..."

"And then, what? Who among our friends is going to admit that they went looking for nude pictures of women on the internet? If it's a man or a woman, Hayley, they're going to be surprised, yes, but they're also going to be jealous. And speaking of pictures, I want some more."

Steven separated from her and began taking photos. She was hopelessly lost in the moment, her reservations melted in the face of flattery and the admiring looks she continued to receive. She hadn't known that her self-esteem had been so low, compared to where she was soaring now.

He finally returned to her, but only after having another participant take pictures of them together, more than a few with his hands resting on her breasts. In public! But she didn't care. As soon as recovered the camera, she grabbed his hand and guided him to an alley between the buildings, both smiling for the many photos that others took as the broke through the watching crowd.

All things considered, it was a very slow parade, and Cocoa Joe's wasn't far behind them. She saw that the harbor wasn't far and led Steven in that direction. They passed several other couples, each with eyes, hands, and mouths only for their mates, and finally arrived at the docks.

The boats were quiet, she presumed, because everyone was watching the parade, or in it. But she couldn't just get on someone's boat. That would be trespassing. The pier was fairly well lit, and they were about halfway down it before Hayley gave up finding a discrete spot. She stopped.

"Steven?"

He smiled at her, expressing both love and lust, and at least he made eye contact at times. "Yes?'

"This "necessary exposure" thing. I'm not going to complain or protest what you've had me do today. In fact, I'll thank you for it. But it's important to understand it from my perspective. You've got it all wrong."

Steven looked somewhat confused, but the bulge in his pants confirmed what she had no doubt would be there.

"It's not about breasts at all." She reached down to his shorts, unbuttoning his fly and unzipping his shorts. She pulled them and his underwear down in one stroke, letting them fall to the pier. She unbuttoned her skirt as Steven assisted in removing it from her, but rather than letting it drop, he bent with them, inhaling deeply of her scent as his nose brushed her cunt. His hands reached again and slowly removed her panties, which were soaked. She watched as he casually tossed these into the water, a mischievous grin appearing at the small splashing sound. Well, if he thought he was going to define the terms...

She turned and placed her hands on a light pole, bending and arching her back, thrusting her hips towards him. If he wanted a show, well, here she was, naked on a pier under the lights at twilight. Whether she was imagining it or not, she was certain that there were eyes on her body that she hadn't seen out there, just as she was sure there would be more before she was done. And if someone wanted to watch, or to take pictures, or to listen in, then that was fine, but damned if he wasn't going to be a part of it.

She reached with one hand between her legs, spreading her fingers to help guide him in. Just the sensation of her fingers caused a surprisingly vocal moan to escape her lips. She felt the head of his cock press against her fingers, searching. She looked back at him, over her shoulder, seeing the tense excitement and lust expressed in his face.

"Steven, the "exposure" is about your cock, in my cunt. And it's "necessary" right now."

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